


Brown Eyes

by ObsessedScribe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Clan Mudhorn, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Love, ManDadlorian, Mando Questions the Creed, Slow Burn, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedScribe/pseuds/ObsessedScribe
Summary: Mando and the accidental stowaway have some adventures together and possibly fall in love, because what else is there? Can't think of a better title, but this one works just fine.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to write a little Mando fic since I've been struggling with my others (at least I'm consistent in this). Non-canon, picks up in Chapter 10; really just for fun and I don't anticipate it going on for many chapters but I'd enjoy some some feedback on this or any of my other Star Wars content. I'm getting a little lonely being cooped up in the house during these strange times and Star Wars, as always, has proven to be a continual source of relief.

**L** ooking around the spaceport, the atmosphere made him uneasy. It had been a mistake to come back to Tatooine so quickly, but the Razor Crest had gotten too banged up for Din Djarin’s comfort after the skirmish on Arvala-7.

He was lifting the sack of supplies onto his shoulder when he spotted someone watching him suspiciously.

“ _Haar'chak_.”

Blending into the crowd never seemed to be an option for a Mandalorian.

Amidst shouts and blasterfire [some of which bounced off his shoulder pauldrons] Din raced back to Peli’s hangar. He’d get the kid and get the kark out of there.

“About time, Mando.” Peli said grumpily, shifting the kid in her arms. “The little one was getting anx—”

“Give me the kid.” Din hastily grabbed the bundle and looked over his shoulder.

“Well if that’s—”

“Gotta run!” He tossed a pouch of credits her way as he charged the up ramp. “You’re going to have some visitors!”

Shouts about damaged droids and equipment fall on deaf ears.

He’d have to overpay next time.

* * *

 **L** yra Dos shifted as the engines rumbled to life.

“Guys,” she shouted to nobody in particular. “You better not be messing around up there! Peli said this guy is suspicious of droids as it is.”

Her mouth snapped shut as the craft began lifting into the air.

That was odd.

She glanced around before stomping towards the cockpit in a huff.

“Dank farrik.”

Lyra was expecting to see a group of annoying little pit droids when the door slid open, but instead saw a man covered in chrome.

“What the kriff—”

The Mandalorian's double take was so violent that he momentarily lost hold of the throttle. If his face were visible, Lyra imagined it would’ve been filled with utter shock.

A blaster was pointed at her forehead before she had a chance to ask any more questions or explain herself.

“Who are you?”

Lyra stepped back, treading lightly, with her hands raised. She opened her mouth to speak just as the ship careened forward once more. Something had struck the side. Her body crashed into beskar steel.

“Of all things.”

She was suddenly being manhandled into the upright position. When the ship started to dip, the man dropped his hands and returned to the controls.

“Are you an Imp?” 

He didn't need to look at her for Lyra to know he was addressing her.

“No.”

His lack of movement and speech suggested that he didn’t believe her.

“I swear.”

He sighed.

“You touch the kid and I’ll shoot you where you stand,” the man responded tightly before muttering to himself. “Out of one mess and into another.”

Lyra frowned. 

“Well, whoever you are,” he shouted, his voice gruff and modulated, “Can you work the cannons? This TIE is on our karking tail and it’s already done a number on the Crest. I need both hands--this lever is loose.”

“Why is there a TIE—”

“Yes or no,” he snapped.

Lyra chewed at her bottom lip as she glanced down at the control panel. The ship vibrated from another hit.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yes.”

She wedged herself against the panel with enough room to move her arms, which only irritated the man further as he briskly pulled his arm away from hers.

“Get on it, “ he prodded urgently as he jerked the ship tightly in an upward angle.

Lyra faltered at the sudden change in direction and bumped into his head. With one hand, the Mandalorian shoved her hip in the opposite direction of his helmet as she teetered.

“Dank farrik. Get out of the…”

“I got it, I got it,” Lyra shushed.

If it weren’t for the life or death situation playing out before her, she would’ve snapped at him. Probably would’ve slapped him too if it weren’t for the high probability of breaking her hand.

“When I tell you to shoot, do it.”

Despite the quick maneuvers, the TIE stayed right on them. Lyra’s chest was tight. Her intention in running to Tatooine had been to stay out of trouble, not to unknowingly stow away right into the middle of a firefight.

“Ready…” The man dipped the ship down and cut the gas. The TIE soared ahead of them.

Lyra moaned and grit her teeth. She may have been a mechanic, but she wasn’t one for aeronautic theatrics.

“Now!”

Lyra punched the controls. Something garbled nonsensically behind her, but she was too paralyzed to investigate. They both stared forward in silence, hearing absolutely nothing until the TIE suddenly erupted into a ball of fire. Lyra exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Beside her, the Mandalorian sighed and put the ship into light speed.

While simultaneously drawing his weapon.

Slowly, her hands raised above her head.

"Is that really necessary? I'm clearly unarmed."

The man cocked his head. 

"Or so you'd like me to think."

"I guess I should be pleased that you feel so threatened."

He gestured for her to take a seat. 

“Who are you? Why are you on my ship?”

Lyra heard more garbling and dared a glance over at a little green creature sitting on the other side of the cockpit.

“What is tha—?

“Don’t look at him,” the Mandalorian ordered. “Look at me.”

“Lyra.” Her attention snapped back. “I’m a mechanic for Peli. I was working in the generator room when you hijacked me.”

“ _Hijacked_? This is _my_ —Peli uses droids.”

“I’m new.” She scrunched her nose. How long had it been? A few months? “Ish.”

The ship groaned. They both glanced around as if the Crest was going to fall out of the sky at any moment.

“Ish?”

Maker, this guy was difficult. All she was guilty [eh] of was attempting to get through a day’s work.

“I’m from Dantooine."

"And?"

"You are really--" The blaster inched forward. “My parents fled Corellia.”

He threw his non-blaster hand up in the air.

“A fragging smuggler. Great. I don’t need any more doshing heat.”

“Let me _finish_.” Lyra jabbed a finger into his chest, recoiling the moment she thought better of picking a fight with this stranger, especially one with a weapon pointed at her.

He tilted his head.

“They operated a hangar in Dantoo Town.”

“What’s your affiliation then?”

“Republic. Well, most of us.” Lyra waved a hand dismissively. “That’s not important.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“My brother is an Imp.” Her chest tightened, remembering the day he left. “They recruited him. Can you put that thing down?”

He lowered the blaster.

“Why were you on Tatooine?”

“Life was becoming a little too difficult.” Lyra hoped that was a satisfactory answer. There were things she just didn’t want to discuss.

“For smugglers?”

She stuck her chin up in the air, but didn’t answer.

“Don’t pretend you’re not up to something a little _nefarious_ yourself.”

Whether he was glaring at her, she had couldn’t tell—but he kept his mouth shut for once and that was all that mattered.

“I left because I didn’t have a choice, alright?”

Blinking emotion from her eyes, she felt the weight of her lashes on her skin. Everything had been very heavy lately.

* * *

 **“** You’re a fugitive.”

Din’s jaw tightened as the words left his mouth with a forceful sigh. This was _so_ not what he needed right now, regardless of whether or not they were running from the same people.

He desperately wanted to rub his temples in frustration. The ship creaked again and it did _not_ sound good. But that could be remedied without getting too involved with others. The fact that he probably had someone’s quarry as a passenger could not—or at least, not quickly.

_Unless…_

“I—” She shrugged, defeated, her shoulders sagging. “I’m sure I’ve been long forgotten.

“But you won’t go back.”

An indignant expression flashed across her features.

“Would you?”

_Alright, carbonite it is then._

Before either had a chance to speak again, the Crest shuddered and the lights went out inside the cockpit.

“Dank farrik.”

The kid warbled its confusion.

“Hang tight, kid.”

To Lyra (her figure mostly visible through the thermal sensors in his helmet), he pointed. He’d get her into carbonite later.

“You. Come with me.”

He waited until she stepped ahead of him. Had he been able to see properly, he was certain an eye roll accompanied the disgruntled scoff that came from her lips. Regardless, she departed for the generator room.

The smell of desert sage and motor oil filtered through his helmet, but he was too aggravated to think about how pleasant it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**“C** an you fix it?”

Lyra peered inside the shaft. The back-up lights had come on, but they were flickering dully.

“It’s tight."

“That’s not what I asked.”

She looked at him, brow furrowing. He waited [impatiently], irritated that he still had no idea who this woman was yet he was in need of her assistance. 

Her thick blonde hair was falling out of its braid in waves. With a huff, Lyra cleared her line of sight and took another look. She then assessed the pile of tools she’d brought on board with her before their sudden departure.

“I can fix the lighting—”

“Good—”

“ _But_ from what I saw on the ground, you’re not going to last very much longer in the air without some major bodywork. The carbon scoring is...” She trailed off, exhaling deeply. 

Din sighed, growing more frustrated by the second.

“Especially after that shootout. Honestly, it’s a miracle we’re not—”

The ship rocked violently, cutting her off. Din felt extra weight and tapped the thermal sensor on his visor; Lyra jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his armor and wrapping herself tightly around his waist. 

The lights flickered on.

He stared at her, somewhat taken aback. Sensing his gaze, she coughed and stepped back, doing her best to look unruffled. 

“Like I was saying.” Lyra steadied herself with a palm against the ventilator shaft to regain composure when the control panel shrieked to life. “Kark!” 

His lip quivered. What a hothead.

“This blasted piece of—”

The harshness of her tone snapped him out of thoughts. 

“ _Don’_ t say it.”

He pointed a finger into her face, warning her to back off. Din was a bit unwilling to accept that the damage to the Crest was as bad as it appeared.He'd had this ship for... _blast_ , it'd been a lifetime. 

They glared at one another, both heads tilting up at once as they sniffed the air.

“What the kriff?” He all but threw his hands up as he marched back to the cockpit.

Lyra tried to make sense of the smoking wires.

“We’re going to have to make an emergency landing.”

“Hey!” Din looked up, frowning. Lyra stared at him blankly. “This is _my_ ship.”

Another shudder shook them both. The kid tilted his head.

_Kriff._

“We’re going to have to make an emergency landing.”

* * *

“Maldo Kreis?”

Gray clouds swirled around the frigid planet. She was not dressed for this.

The Mandalorian paused for a moment before disappearing down the corridor.

“Keep us on track,” he barked.

The little green thing beside her looked up with its big black eyes. She’d almost forgotten about it.

“He always so pleasant?”

Gibberish spilled from its mouth in little squeaks, making her smile.

“What’s your name?”

It responded with a coo.

“Well,” She reached out to grab the Mandalorian symbol hanging from its neck for closer inspection, but instead found her fingers taken hostage by a three-toed claw. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Oh, stars.” Lyra grinned as the little creature squeezed gently. “Aren’t you something?”

The Child smiled, baring his tiny teeth.

“Here.”

Lyra turned to see the gruff Mandalorian thrusting a cloak in her direction.

“It’ll help with the cold.”

She accepted, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards.

During a drunken game of sabbacc one night, Peli had mentioned a secretly soft Mandalorian customer; this had to be him.

“Thank you.”

He nodded briskly, but held her gaze—or at least she thought.

She was about to ask his name when she saw an approaching ship.

“Hey,” she nodded, quickly rising to her feet. “We’ve got company.”

“Get down and be _quiet_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**L** yra listened discreetly as the New Republic officers spoke with the Mandalorian over the comm.

Peli had talked about him before. He seemed to care only about protecting a strange little green creature—from what, Peli hadn’t been sure—but how bad could he really be? If he told Lyra to hide, she would certainly question him later but she would listen.

Without warning, the ship suddenly jerked toward the planet’s surface at an accelerated rate. She rolled forward from where she had crouched behind the pilot’s chair and held her arm out to stop the little one from tumbling onto the floor.

“Hey!” She screeched, bracing her other arm against the side of the ship. “What are you doing?”

“Hang on.”

The ship sped against the mountainside before swerving into a canyon. The X-Wings, which had been successfully dodged, flew past them at the Razor Crest slid to a crunching halt against a wall of ice.

The little one poked his head up as the Mandalorian looked over his shoulder at them both.

“Kid, you alright?”

Lyra was about to speak, a sour retort on the tip of her tongue, when the ground suddenly shifted. Her stomach fluttered and she felt weightless.

The creature shrieked as the Mandalorian ordered them both to grab onto whatever they could.

* * *

**D** in awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. The Crest appeared to still be in one piece (mostly), but he didn’t recognize the view from the cockpit. He leaned forward, craning his neck upward.

They were in a cavern.

“Dank farrik!”

He flipped the blinking switches on the panel above his head but nothing happened. It was then he was suddenly reminded of his precious cargo.

“Kid…” he murmured, panic rising.

He turned sharply and nearly tripped over something on the floor.

The woman.

She must have fallen when the ship crashed through the layer of ice.

“Hey.” He anxiously nudged her side with the toe of his boot, eager to locate the _ad’ika_.

When she didn’t stir, he stepped over her body and into the hull; he’d worry about her later.

Thankfully, within a few moments, he found the little womp rat sifting around the food stores—should’ve checked there first. The kid stretched out his arms and Din scooped him right up.

“You OK?

“Eah.” The kid garbled contentedly and relaxed into Din’s chest.

Sagging against the hull in relief, Din scratched at his neck. His mind began racing: they needed warmth, he needed to get to the repairs—he had to help this unconscious woman, apparently.

Din wrapped the kid up in whatever blankets he could find. He listened as the little creature warbled, watching as Din carried the woman to his sleeping quarters and propped her upright.

Her lips were turning blue and her breath was faint; he should’ve attended to her sooner, but he admitted he’d initially seen her as dead weight and a waste of his efforts. But then he remembered the way her eyes widened as the ship rattled about, how she’d clung to him despite the fact he’d threatened her life several times.

It nagged at him a little.

“I _know_ ,” Din mumbled—more in conversation with himself than with the kid, who continued spectating.

He adjusted her head and noticed a bit of blood seeping from a cut across the side of her head. She must’ve hit it as she fell.

Once he’d removed his cloak and covered her as much as possible, he began looking for the medic kit.

She groaned suddenly, startling him. When he turned around, though, he saw her eyes were still closed.

“Hey!” He shook her by the shoulders.

Shaky fingers swiftly closed around his neck, and Din jerked back.

“Hey!” He held her back with one arm and pried at her hand with the other. “It’s me. It’s alright!”

Her reflexes made him uneasy, but he tried to sound reassuring as he pried at her fingers.

“Relax.”

Her grip relaxed.

“Did we crash?”

Wisps of breath hung in the air in front of her.

She shook her head, as if to clear it, but her eyes still remained dazed. The woman had settled her hands tightly on the crooks of his arms, right where his armor gapped; her fingers were cold.

Din watched her closely.

“Hollow ground.”

It took a beat or two, but he eventually cleared his throat. The woman only stared at him and fingered the cloth around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“Come at me again like that and I _will_ shoot you.”

“Like wha—is the little—?”

The kid popped his head up before she was able to finish. He leaned into her side.

“Eah?”

Din paused as the woman ran a finger over the fuzz at the edges of the little creature’s ears. He smiled up at her.

She suddenly frowned and looked up at Din.

He tossed her the medic kit and she caught it, deftly; but rather than treat her wound, her brow knit in concern.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

“A little rattled,” he admitted unexpectedly. "Bumped my head, but we—" 

Without any hesitation, she stepped toward him with her hand out. Din stilled as her fingers glanced off the edge of his helmet.

Did she have any idea what she was doing?

His hand clamped around her wrist harshly.

“Don’t.”

He turned sharply and exited the ship. There was work to be done, and it probably wouldn’t be long before their friends found them.

“Fix yourself up and get out here.”

* * *

**“H** ey!”

Lyra chased after him, glancing up at the snow falling through the hole above them. She swayed unsteadily for a moment or two, her head pounding.

The Mandalorian didn’t bother to look up at her and went on inspecting the ship.

Lyra unfastened the second cloak he’d given her and held it out to him. She imagined he needed it just as much as she did—maybe more since his armor was probably getting pretty chilly.

“I’m sorry—I just wanted to help you.”

The Mandalorian exhaled, not bothering to look up at her as he accepted the cloak.

“You can help me fix the ship so we can get the kark out of here.”

“And I _will_ ,” Lyra scoffed.

She wondered if he was always this difficult.

“I don’t want to be here with you either, you know; kriff, I had plans.”

The modulated voice began crackling from the helmet, but Lyra continued before he could comment.

“We’re stuck together now, though, so there is no use in acting like an ass.”

She shifted her weight and held out her hand. Her knuckles were already chapped.

After what seemed like an intense stare down—how could she be sure?—the Mandalorian’s gloved fingers wrapped around her own.

“Fine.”

Smiling, she squeezed a firm shake and let her hand linger in the leathered warmth.

_That’s better._

“Lyra Dos.”

He nodded.

“Since I don’t imagine we’ll be returning to Tatooine anytime soon, I can help you with the Crest—whatever you want.” She shifted her weight again, trying to keep the blood flowing to her feet. “As long as you keep me out of trouble.”

Unexpectedly, the ground below her cracked sharply and swiftly dragged her left foot down into a small hole now filled with shards of ice. She stumbled forward, arms shooting out in front of her to maintain balance.

The Mandalorian stared at her.

“Apparently, _Lyra_ , that’s going to be a lot more difficult then it sounds.”

She frowned just as her body gave way to a massive shiver.

“There should be some extra gloves near the privy.” He gestured towards the ship and began pacing again. “Take whatever else you need. I usually keep my passengers frozen in carbonite, not ice.”

Lyra’s pursed lips quirked a little.

“And for kriffs sake, put something over that cut—you don’t want it to freeze.”

There was a bit of a warm spirit somewhere in that tin can after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**D** in watched as Lyra nodded and dutifully headed back into the ship, uncertainty eating at him. 

“And don’t go through the rest of my stuff.” 

“Maybe I already did,” she shouted back.

Din sighed as he cracked his neck, exasperated. The kid, who had wandered out to his side sometime during the exchange, blankets in tow, looked up at him with wider eyes than usual. 

She was right; he had no plans to return to Tatooine at the moment. They were headed for the moon of Trask; he’d drop her off there.

“Looks like it’s the three of us for now,” he muttered casually. “That alright with you?”

He was met with a garbled bunch of nonsense. 

“Of  _ course _ it is.”

His armor chilled. If Lyra was freezing in her borrowed garments, she didn’t show it. He was a bit relieved to find that she wasn’t as whiny as he’d anticipated. She’d been soldering along the port side of the  _ Crest _ in silence for quite a while.

“Do I get a name?” She looked up suddenly. 

Spoke too soon.

He stilled. 

“Mando.”

Her eyes narrowed mischievously.

“That’s not your name. That’s just short for Mandalorian.” 

“Correct.”

“Well.” The woman looked at the  _ Razor Crest _ incredulously. “Mando.” 

Her brown eyes widened as she raised her eyebrows. 

Hers was the most expressive face Din had seen on a human being; he found it slightly charming.

“We’re in pretty bad shape. The main hold is, well, destroyed.”

He blinked at her, gesturing that she was very much stating the obvious. 

Her thick brow arched even more sharply, almost up to her hairline, giving her rosy-cheeked face a hyper-stern appearance. 

“Give me a second.” She jumped to her feet. 

“I’ve never met a Mandalorian before. Are all of them as impatient as you are?”

When he didn’t answer, she nodded. 

“So,  _ yes _ .” 

Lyra paused to refocus.

“We can pressurize the cockpit. It’ll be tight, but it would get us somewhere else so I could do some real repairs.” 

“Then that is what we’ll do.”

He was having déjà vu. 

* * *

**“M** ando” materialized at her side as she worked on the nose of the ship. She flinched. He had unparalleled stealth, especially given all the metal.

“You’ve gotten a lot done.” Surprise was evident in his tone. “Maybe we’ll get out of here faster than I thought.”

“Good,” Lyra shivered and wiped her nose.

“We’re going to the moon of Trask.” 

Mando began walking toward the ship to get some food for the child. “I’ve got some business there so I’m dropping you off.”

She nodded absentmindedly before his words actually registered.

“Hey, wait—Mando!”

Lyra made it to the end of the ramp just as Mando barreled down past her. He was tense.

“What’s going on?”

“The kid—” He looked around. “Have you seen him?”

“Not since I got the gloves.” 

Mando groaned, turning to scan the horizon. Within moments, he raced further into the cavern. 

“Ok. Well,” Lyra shrugged. “I will keep working, I guess.”

Maker, what a day. 

Lyra was rummaging around the storage compartment when she heard shouting outside the  _ Crest _ . She dropped the flagon of spotchka and ran to the door.

She looked out, but…there was no one in sight.

“Mando?” Her voice echoed across the ice. 

She was about to turn around for that drink when she spotted something shiny out of the corner of her eye. Mando was sprinting towards her with the child in his arms. 

He was shouting something, waving his arm frantically. A bit overdramatic, she thought. She couldn’t see a doshing thing.

“Lyra!” His voice rang clearer. “Get back on the ship!” 

“What? Why?”

Her voice caught in her throat. 

She heard them before she saw them, and then suddenly there were hundreds—maybe thousands. Little white creatures scuttled right out of the tunnel and into the clearing after Mando.

“Maker…” Lyra’s heartbeat picked up and her skin prickled in fear. 

Everything in front of her slowed. The sudden ringing in her ears drowned out Mando’s orders as she gripped the doorway of the  _ Crest _ . 

The child was suddenly thrust into her arms and they were both shoved into the ship. 

“We have to get out of here!” 

Dumbfounded, Lyra stared out at the incoming swarm. Her feet fused to the ground. She’d been through a lot in her life, but never anything quite like this. She didn’t even realize _ things  _ like this existed. Their mouths and beady little eyes. 

_ Move. _ She urged herself.  _ Move. _

“The engines,  _ viin'yc _ !” Mando shouted, firing at anything that moved. “Lyra! 

Her senses rushed back to her the moment the spider-like creatures began snapping at her toes. That’s when she noticed Mando’s hand had been trapped against the hull of the ship by some kind of web. A larger beast, maybe the mother, was advancing on them. She had to do something. 

_ Fast.  _

* * *

**“L** yra!” Din wrestled against the webbing splayed across his hand. “Kriffing  _ or'dinii _ .”

All bark no bite, this one. 

He let out a frustrated roar. There were too many Krykna; any attempts he made now would be futile.

When shots rang out, hitting their intended targets instantly, he looked up in disbelief.

Lyra had found the weapons cache. 

With her cover, he was finally able to wrench his hand free. He hurried up the ramp and into the cockpit to begin priming the engines. 

“Close the door,” he shouted. 

He grabbed the kid as Lyra smashed her palm down onto the button. The little Krykna might not get through the main entrance, but they would certainly weasel in through the holes they hadn’t been able to patch. 

Kriff, the  _ holes _ . They’d never be able to get the _ Crest _ going. 

Behind him, Lyra frantically continued shooting. Once or twice, he swore he’d heard her gagging as their bodies exploded into green, foul-smelling gunk. 

Another time, he might’ve smiled. It had been a very long time since he’d been around someone squeamish.

She backed into the cockpit just as the engines began rumbling. A hoard of Krykna had followed her in, but he torched them. 

“Door,” he barked. 

When it slammed shut, Lyra sagged against it. 

“We should be good, yeah?” 

He gave her a quick once over. One last Krykna was about to descend onto her head. She screamed and ducked as he shot it down.

“Are you hurt,” Din asked as the ship began to move. If they could at least get out of the cavern and into the light, maybe they’d be safe.

“No.” Lyra looked around, catching her breath. “You?”

“No.”

“Alright, strap yourselves in.” He inhales deeply. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

“And it’s been such smooth sailing—” Lyra begins wryly. 

“ _ Not  _ the time.”

A strained laugh bubbled out of her lips. It was a little awkward, a little musical. 

The kid seemed to enjoy it. 

* * *

**“M** ando?” Lyra’s voice, much to her chagrin, came out sounding strangled and pitchy. 

Their chances of escaping were dashed when the big spider jumped on top of the ship.

“I’m thinking.”

Without another word, he disappeared into the abandoned hold. The child squirmed beside her, raising its arms to be picked up. 

“You got any ideas,” she asked as she cradled it close to her chest. 

The creature merely looked up at her and blinked its enormous eyes. 

Cannon fire suddenly lit up the cockpit. 

They both shouted at once. 

“Mando?”

“What is that?” 

Lyra peered out the window. 

_ Kriff. _

“Our friends are back.”

So, they weren’t going to be eaten alive, but rather, arrested. 

Everything came to a halt and silence filled the air. Lyra waited for the sound of Mando’s boots against the track, sighing in relief that he hadn’t been killed. 

Muffled voices began speaking. Lyra crept into the hold to get a better sense of what was going on. 

“We ran the tabs on the  _ Razor Crest _ .”

“Am I under arrest?”

_ Maker, please no. _

“You should be.” 

Lyra held her breath.

“But these are trying times. “

She didn’t bother listening to the rest. Relief (and blood) flowed to her extremities and she hurried back into the cockpit before Mando caught her spying.

“Fix the transponder,” was all he said. 


End file.
